


Pay the cost for what we've lost

by risinggreatness



Series: Circle 'round the sun [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:51:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risinggreatness/pseuds/risinggreatness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Padmé and Obi-Wan's friendship through trials and tribulations</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pay the cost for what we've lost

“Anakin hasn’t been following the Order’s vows.”

It isn’t a question, but it also isn’t what Padmé expected when Obi-Wan asked to meet with her. She had her suspicions; however, now confronted with it directly, she doesn’t know what to say.

There is no anger, no disappointment; nothing in Obi-Wan’s voice that can tell Padmé how he feels about Anakin’s broken vows. Padmé never understood the need to lie, but to lie to Obi-Wan would be pointless anyway.

He knows.

He knows, whether she confirms it or not.

“We were married on Naboo, just after Geonosis.”

Obi-Wan sighs. He was not capable of taming Anakin, not even when Anakin was his padawan. He knows the Council can’t prevent Anakin from doing what he wants either. Yet, somehow, it doesn’t matter. Anakin is his brother, in all but blood.

As much as Obi-Wan wants Anakin to become a Jedi Master, he wants Anakin to be happy.

Padmé makes Anakin happy; Obi-Wan can see this. Anyone could see it, if they just looked a little harder. She is level-headed and passionate, just what Anakin needs. Not to keep him in line, but to love him unconditionally, without the reservations of the Jedi Order.

His thoughts leave him silent for a long time. In another room 3PO trips over something; and the sound breaks Obi-Wan’s reverie. The air is heavy with worry and doubt and he doesn’t need to look at the senator to confirm that his silence unnerves her.

“In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck,” Obi-Wan finally answers, “but if there is then Anakin is lucky to have you. I’m glad. Truly, I am. I won’t tell the Council.”

Padmé feels herself breathe freely. ( _Funny how no one realizes their breathing has stopped until it restarts._ ) Relief overwhelms her and she just barely smiles, “We better not tell Anakin either.”

Obi-Wan laughs, Padmé joins with her own light and clear one, and the air in the room is lifted.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan thinks, “If anyone would do for Anakin, it is Padmé.”

When the pair has laughed their fill Obi-Wan speaks again, quieter than before. “If you ever need anything from me, for the both of you, or just for yourself, you only have to ask.”

Stillness takes hold of the room, and for a moment Obi-Wan fears he said something to upset his brother’s wife, but the air retains the same feeling from the laughter. It is warm and comfortable, and safe, a feeling Obi-Wan was sure died with Master Qui-Gon.

Padmé reaches for Obi-Wan’s hand, grasping it tightly in her own, and whispers, “Thank you.”

He clasps her hand in return, giving it a quick squeeze before the stillness is broken.

The main door to Padmé’s apartment slides open and Ahsoka Tano, Anakin’s new apprentice, with her boundless enthusiasm, leaps toward them and dives into the tale of her latest adventure, but neither is really listening to the girl.

Padmé has eyes only for her husband and Obi-Wan observes them with new insight.

The younger Jedi Knight has grown taller than his old master, but more troubled, more lined and scarred as well. Despite all the new lines on his face, he can’t hide the twinge of annoyance with his over-eager padawan.

Needing no other hints, Obi-Wan shepherds Ahsoka out of the senator’s apartments leaving the pair to themselves.

He considers glancing back, but thinks better of it.

\----------

She’s been up these steps before; they’ve never taken this long to climb. Each step is a mountain to scale and a little further away from what she doesn’t want to leave behind. But if he can’t turn back neither can she.

This would almost be easier if they had fought. But they didn’t and the quiet, growing distance between them is unbearable. It makes her want to scream, to weep, to fight; anything to make Anakin feel something.

In the past month, Anakin’s recoiled at her touch; shied away from her embrace. He’s grown more impatient, less passionate; colder. So much colder.

Padmé has never fully understood what Anakin pledged himself to, but she knows her husband, and this is not him. Reaching for her husband, her Anakin, in this stranger only buries the man she loves deeper beneath his skin.

And she can no longer see past this new exterior to her husband.

Ahsoka warned Padmé, warned her Anakin was beyond reason. And when she felt the rage rise inside her at Anakin’s mechanical responses she knew she couldn’t live like this anymore.

“We’re through. Just go.”

Anakin didn’t even look at her as he left.

She doesn’t want to believe Anakin is beyond saving, but she does and she has to warn the Jedi. She has to warn Obi-Wan.

Inside the temple, Padmé realizes she has no idea where to find him. Every time she’s been here, she was accompanied by someone who knew its pathways, but now the halls of the temple are deserted. The war has driven most of the Jedi from their sanctuary into the line of fire.

“Senator Amidala?”

The deep, unmistakable voice of Mace Windu reaches her ears as she enters, unknowingly, into the Council Chamber.

All but two of the Counselor seats are empty and, she assumes, have been empty for months. The Jedi High Council has not met all together since before the war. They cannot meet all at once even via holos. Too much is happening.

Master Windu occupies his seat, Obi-Wan sits across from him, undisturbed by Padmé’s intrusion. He is concentrated on the battle plans laid before him, brow furrowed and hand resting beneath his chin.

“Senator?” Windu asks again; this time, Obi-Wan looks up at the startled Padmé.

“I… I needed a word with Master Kenobi.”

“Is it crucial? If it is otherwise, it must wait.”

Padmé mouth hangs agape, not knowing how to respond.

“It’s all right Master Windu, I will hear the senator,” Obi-Wan says, saving Padmé from embarrassment. He made an offer to her once, he will not take it back, especially now when he can sense her desperate need.

Master Windu looks as if he is about to protest, but Obi-Wan waves his hand and Windu silences his complaints. The seasoned Jedi master rises from his seat and bows his head to Padmé as he exits, “As the senator wishes. Master Kenobi, the Outer Rim can’t wait forever for our response. Don’t take too long.”

The door shuts behind him leaving Padmé and Obi-Wan alone.

“What troubles you Padmé?

All at once everything Padmé carries with her becomes too much to bear. All her pain and fear and rage fill her up, intent on choking her, until she collapses, breathless and weeping.

Desperately she wishes her husband was here to comfort her, but he will never come again.

Through her tears she manages, “He’s gone to the Dark Side, Obi-Wan. He’s gone to the Dark Side.”

Obi-Wan only stares in disbelief.

Padmé can’t know what she’s saying. Anakin would never betray the Jedi. His temper is not easily contained and he broke the Jedi vows by marrying her, but turning to the Dark Side is unthinkable, even for him.

And yet there is always a twinge of doubt tugging at the back of Obi-Wan’s mind. Old fears and objections to training the stray Force-sensitive boy Qui-Gon found are reawakened.

He turned a blind eye to them for so long, for the sake of his brother.

Obi-Wan moves toward his despondent friend and kneels beside her. Catching her in his arms, he draws her into a close embrace, all the while hushing her and stroking the soft curls of her hair.

For a long time neither of them speaks. Words can wait.

“Something has to be done,” Padmé says, her voice muffled by Obi-Wan’s robes, but decisive.

Obi- Wan breaks away from Padmé and looks at her closely. Her face is blotchy and tear-stained, but hard; she is convinced Anakin has been seduced by the Dark Side.

“I will speak to him.”

“No! He’s beyond words now! He won’t listen! Ahsoka was right about him! He’s gone past reason! Only action will put an end to this madness!”

“That is not the Jedi way, Padmé…”

More silence and Padmé stands up, backing away from Obi-Wan.

“The Jedi way?” she spits.

Her voice stays low and controlled, but she is infuriated.   “You’re telling me you won’t do anything to prevent Anakin from becoming a Sith; that you will do nothing while he loses himself to this mysterious Sith Lord you’ve been chasing? Your brother! You would rather watch him be possessed than save him?”

Nobody is listening to her. Ahsoka refused to run. Anakin refused to feel. Obi-Wan refuses to understand. She doesn’t know who she is most angry with.

Hot tears sting her eyes. “Even if you could reason with him, what would you say?”

“I don’t know, Padmé. But I have to try and I will follow Anakin to the furthest reaches of the galaxy if I have to.”

He hates this. He hates seeing Padmé so set against the man they both love. He believes her and he doesn’t. Padmé has no cause to lie, and yet Obi-Wan can’t think of any other reason she would make these accusations. ( _What was it she said about Ahsoka? Does she believe there’s something wrong with Anakin too?_ )

No matter how much he doesn’t want to believe the accusations, he can’t ignore the threat posed by a new Sith Lord to the Jedi, to the Republic, to Padmé.

“We need to tell the Council,” Obi-Wan declares solemnly.

“Of course. They’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t just mean about Anakin. We have to tell the Council everything, Padmé, including your marriage. Whoever is manipulating Anakin will want to destroy everything he loves and that puts you and your associates in danger. I can convince the Council to help you go into hiding, but we must tell them.”

She nods gravely and Obi-Wan rises up from the council room floor to retrieve Master Windu.

Padmé wipes the tears from her cheeks, and tries to regain her composure. It brings her no joy to bear these tidings; it breaks her heart to speak of Anakin like this, but they need to know. If she doesn’t tell the Jedi, who will?

“Are you ready to continue our discussion, Master Kenobi?” Windu asks as the two Jedi reenter the chamber.

“Unfortunately not. Senator Amidala’s life is in danger. And we have little time to act. Her husband, Anakin Skywalker, has turned to the Dark Side of the Force. I would advise for her immediate removal from Coruscant for her own protection and an emergency meeting of the Jedi High Council to determine what is to be done regarding the rogue Jedi Knight.”  
  
Master Windu’s expression changes from blank to serious in a matter of moments; he nods curtly and turns on his heel to call the Council.

Obi-Wan looks across the chamber to Padmé. Her face is hardened to fight back the battle raging inside her; torn between the love she bears Anakin, the knowledge something has turned him against her, and her own principles.

“It’s going to be alright,” Obi-Wan whispers, but he doesn’t believe himself. He knows Padmé doesn’t.

\----------

Obi-Wan returns to the ship, enveloped in the stench of ash and burning. Behind the soot on his creased face Padmé can see the redness of his eyes, the tear streaks down his cheeks.

Anakin is lost to them, for good.

Padmé clutches the lightsaber Obi-Wan pressed into her hand when he returned and says a silent prayer; her own tears of disappointment, loss, and pain forming behind her eyes, but not falling.

She’s cried her last for Anakin.

Even when what was left of the Jedi Order showed her the slaughter of the younglings, she barely flinched. They told her it was her husband, but they were wrong. That man was lost to her weeks ago, possibly longer, and she didn’t say anything until it was too late.

Every fiber of her being tells Padmé she will never see her husband again while she lives.

Obi-Wan looks at Padmé standing solitary in the doorway, half in and half out.

She is not a tall woman, but she has always stood with the height of a queen. Even as the galaxy crumbles around them and falls into the clutches of the Chancellor, into the shadows of the Dark Side, she bears herself with an air of grace and dignity.

_How can he tell her? How can he admit he failed her? Failed them both._

She knows.

She knew before he was ready to even consider the possibility, but he has to say it out loud in order to believe it, “Anakin’s gone. Everything he was is gone. We’ve lost him completely…”

He can’t go on. He buries his head in his hands instead. He doesn’t understand how Padmé can just stand in the doorway. She can’t be as serene as she seems.

He wants to scream. He wants to rage. He wants everything he is holding back to come forth. He wants one of them to display some emotion, to demonstrate how hurt they are by Anakin’s betrayal. But his training forbids it and he can’t make Padmé feel what he feels.

His body quakes as his despair forces its way out.

A cold, clean hand removes his hands from his face, revealing his shame. Padmé kneels beside him, cupping his face in her hands, and fixes her deep brown eyes on his own bloodshot ones, “Obi-Wan…”

“No! Don’t call me that!” he snaps and Padmé recoils.

His voice trembles when he speaks again, “Never call me that. Obi-Wan is dead, the same as Anakin. As Vader stands in his place a different man will stand in mine.”

It seems hours before Padmé responds. Her voice is gentle and steady as always, despite her watery eyes; it is a comfort to him, after all that’s been lost, “What will you be called?”

“Ben.”

\----------

The gods are mocking her, Padmé is sure of it.

Husband lost. Friends gone. Republic dismantled. Home forbidden. She is left alone to float through an endless sky, drifting from one system to the next, settling nowhere.

Still, a part of her can’t help but smile at the news.

Smile and weep.

“Twins,” said the medical droid.

One day, Padmé hoped, she and Anakin would have children. One day when the Jedi Order would recognize their union. One day when their children wouldn’t have to live both knowing and not knowing their father.

That day will never come.

Vader lives and Anakin will never know his children. Their children will live, but they will only know the machine. They will never know the good man who was their father. For that she weeps.

Padmé smiles for herself. The heart Vader ripped from her chest will be replaced. She will regain her husband through her children. They will be untouched by corruption, unmarred by the choices and failings of their parents. They will grow to love and to fight for all that is right with the Force.

A knock and then the door to her bunk slides open; Ben enters.

On hearing the news, Padmé knew she would have to tell him immediately, but she doesn’t want to. It is her secret, her burden, her joy; it doesn’t belong to anybody else. Telling someone will only break the illusion she can be happy again, that she can have something in her life worth making a stand for.

Yet reason prevails, as it must.

“I have something to tell you. Please sit,” Padmé gestures to the spot on the cabin bed next to her and Ben sits down, keeping the distance between the two of them. “I went to the medical bay this morning…”

Ben’s face shifts from the blank stare he’s worn ever since his duel with Vader to something resembling concern, but he doesn’t speak.

Accompanying Ben’s new stoic exterior is a silent tongue. He reacts rarely and speaks less. It’s as if he has nothing left to say, now that his verbal sparring partner gone.

Ben is plagued by other ghosts too. Ahsoka’s disappearance weighs heavily on his mind; he still carries her lightsaber on his belt as if he is holding onto the hope he can return it to her, despite Master Yoda declaring the search for the girl “futile.”

Padmé feels a pang of guilt every time she sees it hang at his hip.

“I’m all right, Ben, it’s something else.”

His expression remains unchanged.

“I’m pregnant.”

Her words bring new life to Ben’s face. More emotions flicker in his eyes in that moment than in all the days since Mustafar. Confusion, joy, anger, fear: every emotion that Padmé recognizes feeling in the medical bay. A hundred questions and a million thoughts try to escape at once.

But it is Ben’s pragmatism that wins out, “What happens now?”

“Well, as I understand it, there’s a nine month waiting period –”

“I don’t mean that. You can’t keep on the run like this. You can’t raise a child in constant fear. You must find somewhere to hide; somewhere you can raise the child out of sight. Sidious is still looking for you and he won’t stop until you’re dead. He won’t let anything tempt his protégé. If Vader hears any word of this… he will come for you and the child.”

Padmé hangs her head and closes her eyes tightly, holding back a new stream of tears.

Vader may have buried Anakin deep within, but stowed safely away among her possessions is Anakin’s lightsaber. ‘His life,’ he once called it and he trusted her with it while he was still her Anakin. It is her last remaining link to him.

But not for very much longer and she will protect them with her life.

“Children, Ben. It’s twins.”

Padmé lifts her head and opens her eyes as a new expression spreads across Ben’s face.

Instinctively Padmé reaches for Ben’s hand. It is trembling.

\----------

Ben watches from a distance as Padmé gives her daughter to Breha Organa. She smiles, but he has never felt such overwhelming sadness in her presence before.

The Organas are good people, the child will be well looked after, and when the time comes Padmé will go live on Alderaan, to work as a senior advisor for Bail. She will see the girl again soon enough.

The boy on the other hand…

The boy will be entrusted to Ben and he will deliver the child to Owen Lars and his wife. Mother and child will be separated for longer than anyone can foresee.

This has been the plan for months and still it surprises Ben how hard it is for Padmé to relinquish her children.

This is the way of the Jedi, the less attachment to their past, the better. Ben was taken from his family before he had any memory of them. If either child shows any potential for the Force their training will have already begun.

Once they leave her arms, they will no longer be hers. Padmé knows it is for their protection, but she can’t easily let go.

When it was suggested that her children be separated Padmé fought it with all her might. She explored every alternative until there was nothing left to be done.

Leia settles into the arms of her new mother with no fuss and Padmé smiles, even though her heart aches to have Leia back in her own embrace.

Leia Organa will grow into a fine lady with far better opportunities than Leia Skywalker would have, but she will always carry that name with her.

Longing to keep her children close for as long as she can, Padmé picks up Luke to cradle him as the Organas leave.

She clutches her son closer as Leia leaves her sight.

Luke cries as his sister disappears. The child wails the way Padmé wishes she could, but her heart hurts too much; she rocks him to dull the pain.

She walks as she holds her, now, only child and spots Ben leaning against the wall in his usual pose, hand resting beneath his chin, pondering. Two lightsabers hang from his belt: his and Ahsoka’s.

The sight comforts her and enrages her.

Not long from now, Ben will take this child from her too. It isn’t his fault, but she blames him. He didn’t do anything to help her find another way, but maybe he always knew there wouldn’t be any other way.

Ben’s eyes scan the cabin being used as a makeshift nursery; they stop on Padmé and the baby.

“Are you ready to say goodbye?”

Padmé doesn’t answer. She glares and she hands her son to the Jedi, giving the boy one final kiss before Ben leaves to board his transport.

Just over the threshold Ben turns back, “If I could have, I would have moved mountains for Anakin to be here with you, and with the twins.”

When Padmé gives no response he walks away.

Last minute, Padmé cries, “Wait!”

Ben comes back into the cabin and Padmé rummages through her possessions.

Clutched in her hands, as she faces Ben, is Anakin’s lightsaber. Cautiously she places it on Ben’s belt next to the others and looks him in the eye.

“For when he’s old enough.”

\----------

“This isn’t advisable, Padmé. Don’t get on that transport! Sidious is still looking for you! Given the chance he will kill you and going off-world will only alert him to your presence,” Ben’s holo projection pleads with her, but she’s through listening to him.

One look at her son was all she wants. Ben’s reports of Luke aren’t enough. She’s afraid one day she’ll pass him by and never know he was there.

And staying on the edge of Leia’s life is too much. A fresh scar on her palm and a brief memory of a smaller hand in hers tells her this.

If she can’t be there entirely for her children she will disappear instead.

“You can’t stop me Ben and the Emperor doesn’t frighten me. There’s nothing he can do that he hasn’t already done. I’m going to see my son. Beru offered me a place to stay for a week, just as a guest, and then I’ll be gone. Luke won’t know who I am.”

“Beru may be accommodating, but Owen Lars is not. You know how he feels about reckless behavior –”

Padmé ends the transmission, cutting Ben’s protests short.

The _Gatherer_ is a Corellian-engineered freighter in desperate need of repair, but it’s headed in the right direction; she doesn’t need the comfort of the Nubian royal starship anymore.

She just needs to know if her son has his father’s eyes.

The few other passengers who board with Padmé look as if they have no where left to go. Padmé imagines she will resemble them when she leaves Tatooine.

She won’t return to Alderaan. Another ramshackle resistance struggles in the Outer Rim; she will join them, and keep fighting somewhere she doesn’t have to look her past in the eye.

No more hiding in plain sight. She will journey into the black and fade away.

\----------

“Padmé,” he calls out to his empty house.

No reply comes.

**Author's Note:**

> See author bio for discussion on this 'verse.


End file.
